


Rescue Me (Except Don't)

by KivaEmber



Series: Persona 5 Oneshots [22]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Metaverse (Persona 5), Alternate Universe - Persona Fusion, Battle Couple, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Sexual Humor, Shadow Operatives, Slice of Life, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:08:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29404569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KivaEmber/pseuds/KivaEmber
Summary: “I’m breaking up with you,” Goro declared from his clumsy eagle spread sprawl on the ground.“Honey, you say that every week. Yet here we are, seven years later,” Akira teased, and held out a hand, “That’s another rescue to me, by the way."or;Akira and Goro are part of the Shibuya Branch of the Shadow Operatives, and have been in a happy, romantic rivalry for seven years. This is just a slice of life look into their exciting lives as Shadow Operatives... such as busting an illegal demon brothel on Valentine's Day.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: Persona 5 Oneshots [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101845
Comments: 9
Kudos: 190
Collections: 21 plus akeshuake server valentines 2021 event





	Rescue Me (Except Don't)

The Shadow Ops office for the Shibuya Branch was an open floorplate. 

In Goro’s opinion this was a terrible design flaw. His coworkers were an energetic, boorish lot, and the amount of times he had to hunker down behind his computer monitor to evade paper projectiles and foam bullets on a  _ daily basis _ was giving him a nervous twitch. He had aggressively fortified his deskspace as a result, claiming his territory in the far corner and creating a fortress out of the brick-like printer manuals nobody read, fending off would be invaders with the most powerful office weapon of all: the water spray bottle. 

(Originally he had actual barriers to make a sort of booth to isolate himself from the office madness, but after enduring a week of his coworkers using the barriers as some sort of graffiti board, he had irritably took them down)

The office was never quiet. Someone always had music blaring - sometimes  _ two _ or  _ three _ people had music blaring, as some sort of pseudo battle of the bands, which always left Goro grinding his teeth and harbouring a brewing urge to commit mass-murder. Othertimes Ann and Ryuji were doing their usual yelling skits, or Yusuke would be possessed by the spirit of insane artistic vision and emulate Michelangelo (the ceiling still had the a naked Akira painted on there with a very crude black splash of paint covering up the… yeah) - or Futaba would hijack the wide-screen television in the office (meant for observing the news) to set up impromptu Mario Kart or Smash Bros tournaments. 

(To date Goro was in constant battle with Akira to maintain the Number One spot in both Mario Kart and Smash Bros. At the moment Goro was second place so he was pretending he didn’t care about the games to maintain his dignity)

In short: the Shibuya Branch of Shadow Ops was loud and rambunctious, and while Goro felt a seething, agonising fury at having to endure their antics in his own form of hellish purgatory, they were also  _ his _ annoying, stupid as hell coworkers, and so felt a strange kind of affection for them (he rationalised it as a form of Stockholm syndrome). 

However, there was one last, important feature of this office space, and it was this:

“Looks like Akira’s in the lead this month.”

The Rescue Board. 

Goro peered over his computer monitor to see Ryuji and Yusuke contemplating the large whiteboard haphazardly balanced on the large windowsill of the office. At the very top of the whiteboard was  _ ‘FEB - MAR’ _ followed by  _ ‘GORO’ _ and  _ ‘AKIRA’. _

So far Akira’s tally added up to ten, and Goro’s eight.

“Hey, Goro!” Ryuji called over to him, turning to give him a shiteating grin, “Looks like  _ you’re _ the damsel this month!”

“It’s not even the second week,” Goro snapped, hunkering back down behind his computer monitor and pretending to be very engrossed in writing this report, “I’ll catch up.” 

Unfortunately, Ryuji took this as an invitation to bother him, and promptly sprawled on top of Goro’s computer monitor like some unwanted stray cat. Goro glowered at him, pointedly reaching for his water spray bottle. 

“Didn’t you say that last month?” Ryuji said, ignoring or oblivious to Goro picking up the bottle, “Then Akira like, beat you out by four rescues and-”

“He  _ cheated,” _ Goro hissed defensively, “The last four did not count since it was  _ his _ fault I had to be rescued in the first place-”

“Actually,” Yusuke intruded then, popping up beside Ryuji like a lanky, sentient beanpole, “If I recall, last Christmas you all agreed that rescues resulting from your own poor choices counted; to maintain your own victory, of course.”

Goro growled. 

“It’s enshrined in law!” Ryuji added unhelpfully, “Just admit you’re like, a total damsel and-  _ ack!” _

“Away with you!” Goro barked, viciously spraying water at the two interlopers. Ryuji and Yusuke both yelped, sheltering behind their arms as they fled his wrath. Goro glared after them, brandishing his water bottle until he was satisfied they weren’t going to return. 

“Someone’s  _ grumpy~” _

“Akira,” Goro sneered, turning his head to see Akira leaning against his wall of printer manuals. His arch-nemesis, ultimate rival, best friend and boyfriend (Goro tended to put all of his eggs in one basket) looked absolutely  _ smug _ this morning, his mouth curved into a wicked grin and his grey eyes heavy-lidded with a feline sort of confidence. Goro had an overwhelming urge to stab him with his biro pen. 

Instead he sprayed him right in the face. 

_ “Ack-” _ Akira flinched and spluttered, blinking rapidly as water dripped off his nose and clung to his eyelashes, “What was  _ that _ for?!”

“I just felt like it,” Goro said with sickly-sweet honesty. He gave his asshole boyfriend a pleasant, innocent smile before spraying him again.  _ Repeatedly. _

_ “Argh- _ Goro-  _ fuck- _ gimme that!” Akira huffed, braving the unending deluge to snatch the water bottle out of his hand, “You’re such a brat sometimes.” 

“Ah,” Goro pressed his hand against his chest, “You’ve disarmed me. Whatever shall I- hah!”

His back-up emergency bottle, stashed behind his computer monitor, was snagged up in an instant. Akira squawked when Goro mercilessly sprayed him again, and within seconds they were both embroiled in an impromptu water fight, the rest of the office ignoring their antics with long tempered experience. 

“Give it up, Kurusu!” Goro yelled from where he was bravely huddling behind his barricade of printer manuals, “I have the high ground!”

Akira, hiding underneath a nearby office chair by utilising his body’s impressive flexibility, shouted back; “You underestimate my power!”

“Hey, uh, I don’t mean to interrupt,” Ann piped up, awkwardly leaning out of her seat to peer over at the drama unfolding in the middle of the office, “But an email’s come in for you two. A mission.” 

Goro didn’t move, suspiciously eyeing Akira who suspiciously eyed him back, “When is it.”

“I’m not your secretary,” Ann huffed, “Check your inbox.” 

Goro turned his head enough to peek at his computer screen in his periphery, blindly patting the desk for his mouse to try and navigate to his emails. Taking advantage of his distraction, Akira inched out from under the desk chair, raising his pilfered water bottle to aim-

“Not so fast, Kurusu,” Goro sneered, firing a warning shot that sent Akira scurrying back under his shelter, “Don’t think you can sneak o- oh, fucking  _ bollocks.” _

“What?” Akira sat up, their game forgotten, “What is it?”

Goro grimly put his weapon down, “We have a mission for  _ tomorrow.” _

“Tomorrow?” Akira gasped, “But that’s  _ Valentine’s Day!” _

Goro didn’t answer, easing himself back into his seat as he read the email in full. It came from the main Tokyo Branch, so from up higher, and it placed both Goro and Akira onto the same mission: coordinating with Okumura Haru in regards to an illegal group of Devil Summoners amongst the upper echelons of society. Haru had set a trap by inviting the main suspects to a private dinner party to render them occupied for that evening - which gave Goro and Akira a chance to snoop in the suspected ringleader’s main property, where funky readings imply some not-so-legal demon summoning nonsense had been taking place. 

All in all, it wasn’t a  _ difficult _ mission. This wasn’t the first mansion Goro had broken into and it wouldn’t be the last - but it was  _ Valentine’s Day. _ He and Akira had  _ plans. _

Akira leaned over his shoulder, his wet hair dripping all over Goro’s shirt, “Oh, it’s  _ that _ mission.”

“Do you mind?” Goro asked flatly. 

Akira ignored him; “It’s not so bad, I guess? It’s just a quick snoop about. Shouldn’t take too lo- _ mmmph!” _

“Don’t,” Goro snarled, pressing his hand firmly against Akira’s mouth,  _ “jinx it.” _

Akira raised his eyebrows challengingly and licked his palm. 

“Ergh,” Goro yanked his hand away and promptly pushed Akira out of his space, “Go away, you horrible creature.” 

Akira did go away - after confiscating both of his water bottles and strutting away like he achieved some great victory. Goro rolled his eyes at his childishness and dug into the mission specs a bit more. Haru was hosting the private dinner around five o’clock in the evening and it’s ‘official’ end time was a little after ten. Haru would be able to stretch that out if need be, but Goro was planning to be out of that mansion before it hit nine. He wasn’t wasting Valentine’s Day skulking about some rich asshole’s house.

It’s not like they never did anything extravagant on Valentine’s Day, after all. Usually they lazed about in their apartment after work, causing a mess in the kitchen when they both got in each other’s way making their ‘romantic homemade meal’, which inevitably resulted in buying a takeout when they ruined whatever meal they were making. They’d then snuggle up together on the sofa with a thick duvet and snacks and watch the corniest, most awful romance films ever. A simple day that could be done the night after to make up for it but… ugh, it was  _ tradition _ at this point. 

_ i’m taking a piss on this rich asshole’s carpet, _ Goro vowed, and emailed back an acknowledgement of his ruined Valentine’s Day plans. 

* * *

The next day, they travelled straight from the office to their victim’s home of residence. 

It wasn’t a large mansion, more of an upper class two-storey home than a mansion, but its worth was mostly from the excessive land surrounding it. With several rows of trees and a kilometre long driveway, it offered a level of privacy that was difficult to obtain within Tokyo - unless you lived on the outskirts. The constant sound of city ambiance was still audible, and Goro had to park their motorbike several streets away to divert suspicion, but it had been easy enough to scale the high walls of the mini-estate and dodge the security cameras near the driveway’s gates with none the wiser. 

This late into winter, it was still daylight when they did their illegal trespassing, the sky easing into a subdued dusk that triggered the streetlights. The air was brisk but temperate, so the walk towards the property was pleasant. 

“Right,” Akira began when they stopped short of the building’s garage, “So, how’re we approaching this?”

“They’ll no doubt have magical protections inside,” Goro mused, “So being stealthy will be time consuming and pointless.”

Akira shot him a smirk, “Oh? Maybe you’re just that bad at tiptoeing around magic traps-”

Goro huffed at him, thrusting a finger right into Akira’s face, “I am  _ not. _ It’s just- easier and far more efficient to trigger them. They’re too annoying to skirt around otherwise.”

Akira said nothing, but his expression clearly said  _ ‘suuuuuure, i believe you’. _

“Let’s just get this over with,” Goro grouched. 

They broke in through the front window, Goro spitefully summoning Loki to do the dirty deed. The two Shadow Operatives clambered in as the goat-legged Persona curiously touched a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, its crimson tipped claws delicately tapping the crystals. 

“Leave those alone,” Goro ordered absently, looking around their surroundings. It seemed they entered some sort of drawing room, with three low-sitting sofas that looked more expensive than Goro’s apartment, a fancy mahogany coffee table and - more importantly, a large bar taking up the far wall, the shelves lined with priceless bottles of alcohol. It was a shame the whole room was cloaked with gaudy tackiness, the walls a distasteful shade of salmon pink and the carpet a plush royal purple. 

“He should be arrested for the colour scheme alone,” Akira said, hooking his thumbs into his belt loops. They were both dressed in the official field uniform of the Shadow Ops, that being a neat black suit and tie… with a protective layer of kevlar underneath the jacket, and a discreet holster hiding their evokers inside, and a not so discreet holster strapped to their thigh where they kept their loaded Browning pistols. They also had their identification and a warrant on their persons, in case their intrusion was noticed and got the police called up on them. 

Needless to say, the Shadow Ops and the local law enforcement tended to have a… fractious relationship. 

“It  _ is _ ugly,” Goro mused, and waved his hand. Loki obediently led the way, ducking beneath the chandelier and making for the only door in the room. Persona were far sturdier than their squishy mortal bodies, and tended to be more sensitive to the presence of magic traps. Loki made for a good canary. 

The door wasn’t booby-trapped, and it opened up into a narrow corridor with several doors. After a comical moment where Loki almost got stuck in the doorway after misjudging how much to duck to clear its horns of the doorframe, they stepped into the hallway without getting blown up or caught up in a rune trap. Despite that, the air here felt more… charged. 

“There’s a trap nearby,” Akira pointed out the obvious. 

“Gee, I never would’ve guessed,” Goro muttered, tilting his head this way and that as he tried to parse the feedback he was getting from Loki. “Now, if I was an illegal Devil Summoner, where would I host my illicit rituals…”

There was a pause where he and Akira looked at each other. 

“Basement,” they both said. 

Of course, they had to find said basement. Goro looked down the hallway, left and right, and couldn’t really pinpoint  _ where _ the magic trap vibes were coming from. It was close, discomfitingly close, and Loki looked clueless, his Persona scratching the underside of its grinning jaw with an air of disinterest. 

Akira was watching him with a knowing smile. 

“It’s-” he started. 

“I can figure it out,” Goro said stiffly. 

Akira pointedly shut up, his eyebrows raised in a  _ ‘well, go on then’ _ statement. 

Goro proceeded to play hot and cold. He inched a little down the hallway, towards what looked like a kitchen area. Akira made a small, involuntary noise. Goro backed up and went the opposite way, squeezing past his boyfriend and promptly sticking his foot dead centre of the magic trap. 

The rune flashed beneath his foot, and Goro only managed a “oh you’ve got to be-” before he was violently hoisted up by his ankle, narrowly avoiding braining himself on the floor as he dangled helplessly upside down, spitting and snarling curses like a drenched cat. 

“So,” Akira drawled, looking far too amused despite Goro almost cracking his skull open, “You can figure it out, huh?”

Goro  _ growled, _ flailing a little in the trap’s hold. No dice, he was stuck, “You- goddamn- you  _ knew!!” _

“You  _ really _ need to work on your trap sensing,” Akira chortled, positively tickled at his fuck up, “If that had been a dangerous one…”

_ “Kurusu!” _

“Okay, okay, geeze…”

Arsene fluttered into being, laughing heartily at Goro’s predicament. Loki defended his honour by grabbing a fistful of feathers, and all too quickly the two Persona were tussling in the too small hallway. Akira put a stop to it quickly enough, but a massive hole was punched through the drywall in the process. 

“Ergh, oh, whatever,” Akira dismissed the damage, turning back to the slowly-turning-red Goro, “Arsene, dispel the trap, please.”

Arsene dispelled the trap, and belatedly the both of them realised there wasn’t anything below Goro to cushion his fall. 

“Oh  _ oops-” _

_ “Argh!” _

**_THMP!!_ **

So… yeah, the infiltration was going well. 

“I’m breaking up with you,” Goro declared from his clumsy eagle spread sprawl on the ground.

“Honey, you say that every week. Yet here we are, seven years later,” Akira teased, and held out a hand, “That’s another rescue to me, by the way. Did you hit your head?”

“No, just my pride,” Goro grumbled, taking Akira’s hand and letting him be hoisted back to his feet. He brushed himself down and straightened out his clothes, his face still feeling hot with humiliation. He had to admit, Akira was right regarding his trap sensing abilities. He normally just sent Loki ahead to brave them, as the Persona was tanky enough to weather all but the deadliest of magic traps, but if Goro was caught in them first then, well, he was fucked. 

“......maybe you should take lead,” Goro admitted through gritted teeth. 

Akira, bless him, did not make a joking comment. Instead he nodded, and dismissed Arsene with a casual wave of his hand. Goro did the same with Loki, and silently the pair of them walked deeper into the building. 

After discovering the suspect’s kitchen, his pantry with its own wine section, and what looked like a miniature theatre complete with a small bar (“I’m sensing a theme,” Goro commented dryly), they discovered the door to the basement tucked behind the laundry room. It led into a deep, impenetrable darkness, the stairwell winding downwards narrow enough to allow only single-file. 

“Well, this sure as hell looks ominous,” Akira commented brightly, “Do you want to go first?”

Goro, still sore and smarting from the trap earlier, warily eyed the pit of evil and said, “I don’t mind bringing up the rear.” 

Akira stared at him for a moment, visibly struggling in holding back a dirty joke. Goro stared back at him, his expression all but daring him to voice it. Luckily, Akira mustered his maturity from somewhere, and he simply headed downwards into the basement, Goro practically on his heels. 

The ambient temperature heightened the further down they went, turning humid like they had stepped foot into a tropical jungle. Goro could feel his shirt stick to him from sweat, irritably pushing his damp hair out of his eyes as they reached the bottom. The stairs opened up into a very underwhelming room barely larger than a cupboard, with one lone door inscribed with various runes and traps opposite the stairwell. The heat seemed to be emanating from there. 

“Is it just me, or is it hot?” Akira muttered, tugging at his collar and loosening off his tie, “Ugh, I’m sweating my balls off.”

Goro grunted bad-temperedly, “I’m sensing a lot of demonic energy behind the door.”

While Akira’s senses were precise enough to detect the subtle fluctuations of magic traps, Goro’s were robust enough to lock on and decipher the unique energy that demons gave off. The strength behind that door was phenomenal but bound, meaning the suspect had summoned a demon, but luckily knew enough about binding to keep it relatively contained. Of course, such bindings required a high price, a currency that normally ran along such things such as ‘blood sacrifices’ or ‘fresh virgins’, and once the bindings ran out of juice, well, you were fucked. 

“Hmm, these traps are just to keep intruders out, not to keep anything in,” Akira mused aloud after studying the inscribed traps, “So we can bust in without releasing whatever’s inside.” 

“Should we ‘bust in’?” Goro asked mildly, “We were asked to discover evidence that this man was an illegal Devil Summoner, and we’ve done that. There was nothing in the mission parameters about slaying any demons.”

Akira gave him a very disappointed look,  _ “Goro. _ Are you suggesting we do…  _ the bare minimum?” _

“I’m hot and tired and it’s Valentine’s,” Goro grumped.

“Is that the excuse you’re willing to give Mitsuru when she asks why we didn’t deal with the demon?” Akira asked reasonably. 

Goro said nothing for a long moment. 

“...just open the fucking door,” he muttered. 

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Akira said with a charming grin, and Goro barely resisted the urge to choke him with his tie when he felt a blush not attributed to the heat rising in his cheeks. 

_ “Kurusu,” _ he growled. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Akira looked far too smug with himself and summoned Arsene… which was quickly realised to be a mistake when they discovered the room was too small to accommodate the jovial Persona and Goro got a faceful of black feathers as a result. 

“Argh,” he said. 

“Sorry! Sorry,” Akira coughed, “Um, Arsene, the door…”

The traps were dismantled and Arsene was thankfully dismissed, allowing them to skulk inside the forbidden room unimpeded. The interior was… not what was expected. 

“Um,” Akira began. 

“Well,” Goro said. 

It was a sex dungeon. 

Correction: it was a  _ demon _ sex dungeon, with multiple lilims and succubi lounging about on very comfortable looking floor pillows. They were all naked, except for strips of cloth that could  _ tentatively _ be called lingerie, and they were all focused on a TV mounted on the wall playing Featherman R, of all things. Upon his and Akira’s entry, about ten heads turned to stare curiously at them with unnervingly bright, demonic eyes, like a pack of wolves sighting a lone fawn.

For a long moment nobody spoke, the silence filled with Red Hawk’s voice bellowing  _ ‘let’s go, Rangers!’. _

“Er, hi, ladies,” Akira finally said, “How’s it going?” 

Goro slowly turned his head to glare at him. 

“Are you a new client?” one of the succubi asked, a tall, leggy blond that looked like she had stepped out of a PornHub video. Despite the sweltering heat inside the room, none of the demons looked sweaty or bothered. Goro envied them, resisting the urge to scratch at where sweat was tickling the nape of his neck. 

A ripple of interest went through the room at the prospect of new clients (prey).

“A new client?”

“Ohh, it’s two handsome guys this time! Nice!”

“Ugh, finally, no more creepy old men.”

“Hey, do you think they’d be up for some spitroasting~”

“I call dibs on the cute one!”

“We’re not clients!” Goro shouted over the excited whispers, not liking how the gathered demons were all but salivating at the thought of getting their hands on them. He could practically  _ feel _ their hunger. If they let their guards down, these demons would eat them alive -  _ literally. _ “And we’re not interested in women!”

“We can change,” the lead succubi said blithely. 

Akira opened his mouth and Goro furiously stomped on his foot. 

“No!  _ No,” _ Goro glared at an affronted Akira and said again,  _ “No.” _

“I-I didn’t even  _ say _ anything-”

“This is an illegal- fucking, what would you call this?” Goro said, gesturing to the sex dungeon with its TV, comfy floor pillows, and mysterious contraptions dangling from the ceiling that probably served some sexual purpose (or torture), “A brothel?”

“A brothel’s more upperclass, hon,” the lead succubi said, “It’s a sex dungeon.”

“Fine, whatever, this is an illegal sex dungeon,” Goro said, a part of him dying inside at having to vocalise this, “I have no idea why you’re here - don’t tell me, I don’t want to know - but you have to leave.”

“Awww, but this place is so much fun!” one of the lilims whined. 

“Yeah! It’s free food!”

“And free beds!”

“I mean, sure, we have to deal with creepy old men, but that’s our main diet anyways…”

Goro pinched the bridge of his nose. He was too sober for this. 

“So,” Akira said, as the gathered sex demons pleaded their case on why they should be left alone in their ‘cosy little sex nest’, “It turns out our suspect was illegally summoning sex demons for his own personal, um…”

Goro groaned into his hands. 

“I mean, is this a crime?” Akira asked, rubbing the back of his neck, “It’s not hurting anyone…?” 

“It’s only a matter of time until one of them literally  _ eats _ the idiot, or one of his equally moronic friends,” Goro sighed, lowering his hands and straightening up, “And there’s a binding in this place. He has to keep it fed somehow.”

“Oh, he sacrifices homeless people for that!” one of the succubi cheerfully told them, “Even though we tell him we have no intention of harming him, he still insists on these pesky bindings.”

“As if we’d eat our main food source!” a lilim scoffed, “We know better than to bite the hand that feeds us!”

“Well, sometimes,” another lilim added impishly, sending the group into fits of malicious giggles. 

“Okay, so, murder,” Akira ticked off, “Illegal demon summoning, illegal, er, prostitution? Can you pimp demons? Do they count as people?”

“I’m not having this debate with you when we’re standing in front of a  _ horde of sex demons.” _

Akira huffed, “You’re being so snippy. Oh?” he paused, his mouth curving into a wicked smile, “Goro, are you  _ flustered?” _

No, he was extremely discomforted by this entire situation. Goro clenched his jaw and pointedly turned away from his grinning partner, refusing to admit to it. He said as authoritatively as he could; “Demon sex dungeons are illegal without a permit, so you have to leave.”

A dissatisfied grumble swept through the crowd. 

“What if we don’t  _ want _ to leave?” the lead succubus asked shrewdly. 

“I mean, there’s only two of you, and ten of us,” a lilim added. 

“Yeah, we outnumber you!”

The mood started to turn. The demons looked less amused and more predatory, their cat-like eyes sizing both him and Akira up, their smiles flashing sharp teeth. Goro felt a shiver crawl down his spine, because getting mobbed by a pack of hungry succubi and lilim was  _ not _ a nice way to die. They tended to  _ play _ with their food until their poor victims  _ begged _ for death. 

“Uh, darling…” Akira said.

“I know,” Goro sighed, cracking his neck, “So much for settling it nice and easy.” 

The demons struck first. 

Launching from their languid lounging like a pride of lions bolting for a wounded gazelle, the demons’ faces shifted from that of beautiful women to something more monstrous, with jaws that split open wide to show a maw full of sharp  _ teeth, _ wicked sharp claws outstretched and batlike wings bursting from their backs. They surged forwards as a thick mob, an intimidating wall of howling fangs that would send a lesser man fleeing from fear alone. 

However, Goro had faced down scarier things. 

He and Akira split, causing the mob to briefly stall as the succubi and lilims tried to figure which target to go for first. In that moment of hesitation, he and Akira pulled out their evokers as one and summoned their Persona, their pulses spiking from that sharp white-hot flash that pulling the evoker’s trigger brought. Goro’s vision was briefly shrouded when Loki lurched into being with an excited howl, already panting at the thought of violence. 

“What! They summoned demons!?”

“No fair!”

“Wait- those are-!”

“Argh, no! Persona-users!”

The fight went from 10 vs 2 to 10 v 4 - far better odds. The demons looked panicked -  _ lovely. _

“Loki!” Goro bellowed, “Tear them apart!  _ Megidolaon!” _

“Arsene!” he heard Akira shout at the same time,  _ “Maeigaon!” _

The two spells impacted at the same time. The entire room shook from the force of the resulting explosion, the magical bindings barely containing the shockwave - the news was probably going to report a minor earthquake in this area, no doubt - as the shrill screams of defeated demons wailed over the dull roar. Goro didn’t let his guard down, though - he could still sense a powerful demon. Was there another aside from the succubi and lilims?

“Akira!” he called, waving a hand in front of his face to try and clear his vision. The explosion kicked up far too much dust. He could barely see, “There’s another dem-”

_ “Got you~” _

Goro barely had time to  _ flinch, _ let alone react when powerful, clawed hands grabbed at him from behind. He yelped, and Loki snarled, already turning to defend its summoner - but Goro was already moving, thrashing enough to free his arm and punch whatever was restraining him full force. 

Something  _ crnnnch’d _ under his fist, and a shrill, furious shriek almost deafened him as his assailant reeled away from him in pained surprise. Goro saw: dark hair, yellow eyes, dull grey scales and a rearing snake with fangs already bared, and thought:  _ aw shit, a lilith. _

The monstrous snake lunged forwards faster than he could blink, its fangs piercing through his kevlar undershirt and sinking into soft flesh underneath. A single heartbeat, and that icy cold, burning pain of paralytic poison already swept from the bite and locked up his muscles before Goro could try to retaliate, his vision tunnelling down as he croaked some strained, garbled word that might've been a desperate command for Loki, or a curse - he honestly didn't know himself. His knees buckled, Loki fizzled from existence, and the Lilith's snake withdraw just as black feathers flashed in his periphery. 

Things… got a bit fuzzy after that. 

This was not the first time Goro was bitten by a Lilith snake in his long career as a Shadow Operative. Nope, sad to say, this was… the fourth time? Thereabouts, and each and every time it was a highly unpleasant experience. The snake’s poison ran the gamut of either rendering its prey entirely paralysed for a short period of time, or writhing in agony, and it looked like Goro drew the ‘lucky’ straw of finding himself nauseously wavering between consciousness and unconsciousness, his entire body numb and completely lax. It was a struggle to even breathe evenly, fighting through the poison with sheer, single-minded stubbornness, where a normal human would've simply expired on the spot. 

It was a terrifying state to be in. He barely registered he was on the ground, noise filtering in like poor static - something was standing over him - he could hear Akira cursing absolute bloody  _ murder - _ and a demon was shrieking so shrilly it made his ears want to bleed. Through sheer force of will he forced his eyes open, but everything was so unfocused and blurry he had to close them again before he went stupidly cross-eyed. 

Argh, he hated this. 

_ i just wanted to spend a quiet valentines in bed, _ he grouched internally, furiously fighting through the paralytic’s numbness. He could feel his fingers start to twitch,  _ but  _ **_nooooo,_ ** _ some rich asshole decided to summon  _ **_sex demons_ ** _ for his stupid fucking underground brothel- _

“Goro!”

He startled when he felt cold hands touch his cheeks, his eyelashes fluttering but failing to open as he grunted out some slurred, barely comprehensible;  _ “kira’s’at’you?” _

“Yeah, it’s me. Fucking  _ shit, _ I’m sorry I didn’t notice the Lilith,” Akira was saying, his words fading in and out as his hands moved to his shoulder. It felt damp, and warm, and Goro knew once the poison wore off it was going to hurt like a  _ bitch, _ “Urgh, you’re bleeding a lot. Your shirt’s ruined, sorry.”

“S’fine,” Goro mumbled, even though it very much  _ wasn’t, _ “Heal?”

“Yeah, hold on.”

Akira switched out Arsene for another Persona - he didn’t catch the name - and felt an Amrita gently rain on him as softly as a misty drizzle. Sensation came back with such disorientating abruptness that Goro couldn’t hold back the breathy, high-pitched gasp when agony swelled up like a bolt of fire in his shoulder. All of his nerves  _ burned _ with pins and needles, and it was only through sheer, teeth-clenching willpower that he didn’t scream.

(He did whimper though, his body half-curling into itself as it tried to cringe away from its own, burning nervous system. Fucking _Liliths)_

“Sorry! Sorry!” Akira said quickly, his hands gently pressing against his burning shoulder, “Shit, I should’ve healed this first - hold on.”

Healing magic always felt cold, but this one felt particularly frigid, his fingers twitching as the chill seeped into his searing wound and sealed it up. It still hurt - the body’s pain receptors were always several steps behind healing magic - and it left him clammy and panting, but he could  _ move _ again, and his shoulder didn’t feel like it was about to fall off so - better, he supposed. 

“Mother _ fucker!” _ he gasped, sitting up and almost headbutting Akira in the process. His vision was still a bit blurry, and belatedly realised it was from tears of pain. He scrubbed at his eyes roughly with the back of his hand, “I fucking  _ hate _ Liliths, those fucking, pieces of shit  _ assholes-! _ ”

“Feeling better?” Akira asked him dryly.

“No, I feel like _shit,”_ Goro snapped, lowering his hand and levelling an exhausted, grumpy glare at his boyfriend,  _ “Obviously.” _

Akira lifted his hands placatingly, “Okay, okay, you’re not in a joking mood…”

Goro huffed, and grabbed Akira’s shoulder, awkwardly using him to leverage himself onto his feet. His legs still felt shaky, and his pulse thrummed unpleasantly loud in his ears. Even with an Amrita, it took a few hours for a Lilith’s snake poison to fully flush out of the system. The rest of the night was going to be  _ miserable. _

“So much for Valentine’s,” he grumbled as Akira stood up and politely let his shoulder be used as support.

“Hey, we can still enjoy it,” Akira said easily, “When we get home I’ll make dinner while you have a bath, and then we can spend it in bed. Extra duvets and everything. I’ll even let you have that horrible hot water bottle that makes the bed overheat.” 

That did sound nice. Goro’s brewing dark mood was mollified a little as he imagined having a nice, warm bath after this fucking  _ nightmare. _ He was sticky with sweat and blood, feverish and achy… yeah, a bath sounded like heaven right now. 

“...fine,” he grumbled, “That sounds okay.”

“Okay, he says,” Akira huffed playfully, and casually wrapped an arm around Goro’s waist as he led him out of that hellish dungeon. The room was completely trashed, the walls scorched and pockmarked, the bindings barely in one-piece from containing whatever epic battle Akira had with the Lilith. Goro felt a little pissed off that he spent the whole thing lying uselessly on the ground like a  _ damsel.  _ The others could never know about this. 

As if reading his thoughts, Akira said; “Twelve.”

“What, is that your mental age?” Goro muttered. 

“Twelve rescues,” Akira clarified smugly, “I have a four point lead…  _ again.” _

“Eleven,” Goro countered, “The magic trap didn’t count.”

“It did! If I didn’t save you from it, you would still be stuck upside down in the hallway.”

“You  _ tricked _ me into stepping on it.”

“I did not. I was going to tell you where it was, but you were all  _ ohhh, no, I can figure it out, Kurusu. Now watch as I blindly walk into it like a fucking prideful moron.” _

“Was that meant to be me? Awful.” 

“What, not nasally enough? Let me try again:  _ ‘ohhh, no-’ _ ow!”

“Oops,” Goro’s grin was all teeth as Akira glared at him, rubbing his ear where Goro had viciously pinched it, “My hand slipped.”

“You know, I could just drop you right now,” Akira said when they reached the bottom of the stairs. He looked up at the narrow staircase and went, “Ah, wait.”

“I can manage this by myself,” Goro sighed, pushing away from his boyfriend’s hold and slowly and painfully climbing the stairs on too-heavy legs, “Ugh, fucking hell…”

“Need me to give you a piggyback?”

“I refuse,” Goro snarled, “To be carried in a  _ piggyback.” _

“How about bridal carry?”

“Akira, I will throw myself down these stairs.”

Akira huffed something that sounded like  _ ‘drama queen’, _ but he did shut up for the rest of the climb. By the time Goro reached the top of the staircase, he was dripping with sweat and was, quite frankly, done with life. He stared at the hallway floor and contemplated just lying there until the rich asshole came home. 

“Do you think we could legally murder this man?” Goro mused. 

Akira didn’t bat an eye at this casual wish for murder, “Probably not.”

“Pity.”

In all honesty, the exfiltration was anti-climactic. They left the mansion more damaged than they left it (they broke another window to get outside, despite the front door being right there), and after a slow, shuffling walk across the large stretch of land the property possessed, Goro mustered enough energy to scramble over the security wall and land clumsily on the other side. It was nighttime now, the streetlights casting stark, shadows across the street - but they went unnoticed. Their mission, despite minor hiccups, was a success. 

“Keys?” Akira asked, holding his hand out expectantly as they walked at a snail’s pace to where they parked the bike, “No offence, but I don’t trust you to drive like this.”

Yeah, Goro could admit he’d probably kill them both if he tried to drive. He dug his hand into his pockets, grabbing the motorcycle keys and tossing them at Akira’s face, “There.” 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Akira purred, catching the keys before they could smack him on the nose, and pecked him on the cheek. 

Asshole. 

Their bike was where they left it, unmolested, and Goro settled behind Akira, grabbing the helmet kept in the bike’s rear compartment. It felt stuffy and suffocating when he slipped the helmet on, but he endured, holding Akira tightly around the waist as the bike’s engine ignited with a low, sultry purr. 

“Ready?” Akira asked, and Goro gently bumped his helmet’s forehead between Akira’s shoulder blades in answer, “Okay, we’re going home!”

And with a roar of the engine, they were off into the night.

* * *

In the end, the day wasn't a total wash, he supposed. 

In a self-made nest of multiple pillows and a thick duvet, complete with a hot water bottle easing the last of the tense muscle cramps from his  _ near-fatal poisoning, _ Goro was drowsy and content. His cheek was pressed against Akira’s shoulder as he watched the TV from beneath his eyelashes, barely taking in what was happening on the screen. His hair was still damp from his long, long,  _ long _ bath, roughly tied back into a ponytail with a few wisps sticking to his cheek and forehead, the air faintly smelling of that weird shampoo Akira bought for him. It was a little spicy, like cinnamon. 

“Feeling better?” Akira asked him, giving his waist a gentle squeeze where his arm was tucked around him, his hand splayed on the slight curve of his hip, “You’ve got a bit more colour to your cheeks now.”

“Mhm,” Goro answered, his eyes slipping fully closed. He felt Akira tug him a little closer, tucking him more against his side. Goro allowed it. 

“Maybe we should call in sick tomorrow,” Akira mused, “I mean, we’ve finished the mission fine, and Mitsuru was happy enough with my report…”

“You submitted a report already?” Goro mumbled, thinking this was uncharacteristically prompt of his boyfriend. 

“Well, yeah. I had to occupy myself somehow while you were undergoing a prune metamorphosis in the bath,” Akira said wryly, “That sex demon guy should be getting arrested by the end of the week, hopefully.”

“Hmm…”

“We’ll call in sick,” Akira decided for them both, “Have a really lazy day tomorrow, let you recover properly.”

“M’fine,” Goro grumbled. 

“Futaba could beat you up right now,” Akira said, “and she has noodle arms. Nope. We’re calling in sick. Count that for rescue number thirteen, by the way.”

“What?” Goro sat up a little at that, abruptly more alert, “How- calling in sick isn’t a  _ rescue.” _

“Sweetheart, my love, the light of my life,” Akira said, his tone positively  _ droll, _ “If you go into work tomorrow, you will suffer  _ terribly  _ and probably kill everyone in the office within the first hour.”

This was true, “That doesn’t mean-”

“And you’re too prideful to do it yourself,” Akira spoke over him, “You didn’t even call in sick when you got food poisoning that one time-”

“It  _ wasn’t _ food poisoning, it was-” Goro felt heat rise to his cheeks at the reminder of that time he threw up on Sakamoto’s desk, his lap and Akira's shoes (something that was still brought up from time to time as Goro’s Most Embarrassing Moment Ever) _ , _ “I-It was an upset stomach-!”

“So, me, being the loving, attentive boyfriend that I am,” Akira continued, unruffled by Goro’s protesting, “Will swallow your pride for the  _ both _ of us, and call in sick for you, so you can recover and I can play nurse.  _ That _ counts as a rescue.”

Goro was too tired to argue Akira’s stubborn logic. He could already feel his brain start to overheat in its skull, letting out a low, tired groan as he slumped against his boyfriend with a defeated mutter of; “Oh, fine, whatever.”

“Great!” Akira said cheerfully, patting his hip, “That’s a five point lead for me, then.”

Goro pinched him. 

_ “Ow!” _

Goro hid a smile into Akira’s shoulder as his boyfriend grumbled at being ‘unappreciated’ - there was no heat to it. He felt Akira’s smile when he nuzzled his still damp hair, the pair of them curling up together, not watching the TV and merely happy and content to enjoy each other’s company after a long, exhausting day. 

It wasn’t their traditional Valentine’s Day, but it’ll do, he supposed. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the 21 akeshuake server Valentine's Day event, so check out the collection for other work that'll be posted over the weekend! 
> 
> The prompts I used were: 
> 
> Flavour: Competition  
> Chocolate Coating: Other Persona/SMT Crossover  
> Garnish: Rescue


End file.
